


Searching for a place to call home

by Dammitjim



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:18:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dammitjim/pseuds/Dammitjim
Summary: After the war, Harry no longer feels like he belongs at Hogwarts or with his friends. He decides to travel, hoping for new experiences and searching for the place that he can finally call home...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this recently while freeing up space on my USB. I was unsure what to do with it, not feeling confident enough to post it, but I started reading some Anita Blake and Harry Potter fics and decided to take the plunge. There is no beta (feel free to email if you are interested), and updates may be sporadic, but please let me know what you think!

Harry had always wanted a home. Number four, Privet drive had never been that. Simultaneously too loud and too quiet, but never welcoming; it was a picture perfect house in a place that was devoid of personality. It looked as if the same house had been cloned all along the street. The only place there that had ever felt remotely safe was his cupboard, with spiders that scared Petunia away and was much too small for Dudley and Vernon to get in. 

Hogwarts came close. For a while, he thought it had been, but now, with everything done, he knew it wasn’t. The wizard could see death everywhere in the school, it reeked of it. It was the same in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Little reminders of people who weren’t there anymore, physical scars left in the stone of walls or emotional ones in the emptiness of the classrooms. Flashes of spells used in the repair of Magical Britain, which alternately made him think of the excitable Dennis Creevey, who carried his camera everywhere, and danger, leaving him tense and weary at the end of every visit. He knew that Hogwarts wasn’t his home, because he no longer felt safe there. No longer felt the warmth of the castle when he entered the front doors, couldn’t bear to visit unless he had to. 

The Burrow, what little time he spent there, during the summer holidays, during the time that should have been his seventh year, but was instead spent on the run from the ministry, living in a tent that, while magically larger on the inside, still felt too small for three people, then two, then three to hide in for most of a year, had also come close to being home. 

The Burrow had, however, taught him most about family. The things that even staying at Grimmauld place with Sirius hadn’t taught him. Affection, boisterous fun, shouting, yelling, impromptu Quidditch matches, sleepy, lazy mornings with Mrs. Weasley making breakfast, serving him extra helpings when he wasn’t looking because he was ‘much too skinny, dear’ and evenings in front of the fireplace, the whole family crowded into that one room, with the wizarding radio playing The Weird Sisters, playing exploding snap, the twins plotting in one corner, Percy reading quietly in the other corner (when not in his room panicking over cauldron thickness) , Mr. Weasley asking Hermione about electricity in between rounds, and Mrs. Weasley sighing at her husbands obsession while observing the whole room in a matronly way, and glancing suspiciously at the twins every now and then. 

But effects of the war had seeped in slowly over the past few years, from the glaring absence of Fred (and the silent, withdrawn George, half of a whole, the one left behind) to the scars on Bills face, and Percy’s eagerness to repair the damage he had done by choosing the Ministry over his family, and Ron and Hermione, who, finally together after years of countless arguments, were hopelessly in love and rushing into engagement, and Ginny who stared at him, declarations of love in her eyes, but still ridiculously naïve, even after being in the battle, who still thought they could be together, have a ‘happily ever after’, even after…even after he had died, changing him suddenly from the man-child who still thought in black and white to a man who realized that that wasn’t really true, that everything was just shades of grey, even if he couldn’t explain why he had changed.

The Burrow was a home, but wasn’t quite his home. Harry knew he was welcome there, but it wasn’t quite right. Felt like he was dressing up in Dudley’s five times too large cast offs, leaving him awkward and uncomfortable, tense in case he tripped over the hem, stepping over boundaries that he was unaware of. 

So he left. Packed his belongings into his school trunk, shrinking his broom and text books to fit the things he had picked up over the years, and left, creeping out the house early in the morning after another night of nightmares, muted except for the vivid red of blood and piercing screams. He placed a note on the kitchen table with a hastily scrawled note comprising of ‘Going home, Harry x’ in his chicken-scratch writing, propped up against the fruit bowl, and was gone. 

He didn’t know where home was, not yet, but he would find it.


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Harry received a flurry of Owls, as the people he left behind sent him messages, frantic pleas to ‘come home’, or ‘to stop being silly’, and he would send back a few souvenirs that made him thing of particular people (but carefully not sent until he had left the country), and a few notes that generally consisted of a basic ‘I’m ok, Harry x’ or a funny story he had heard, and gradually, over the months, they lessened as people realized that he wasn’t coming home. 

The only person he sent regular letters, real letters, to was Andromeda-call-me-Andy-you’re-family-now, who in return, sent him updates and pictures of his Godson. He felt a pain in his chest when he thought of Teddy, and missing the boys’ first smile, laugh, steps, but knew that the constant moving would be distressing for him, and so his Godson was better off with his Grandmother until Harry found home. 

He travelled in a combination of muggle and magical ways. Flying into a country on a plane and apparating or flying while he was there. Sometimes, he would hail a taxi, or a rickshaw, or whatever version of public transport there was and just sit there. The taxi drivers would ask (usually) in broken English, where he would like to go, and he would tell them that he was looking for home, but he did not know where it was, and they would drive him round for hours, occasionally glancing at him either curiously or sympathetically in the mirror, content to drive him around as long as it was one the meter. Occasionally, the drives would be filled with meaningless chatter as the driver would talk about his family, the city, anything and everything they had an opinion on.

The wizard was indiscriminate of where he went, jumping, from Canada, to Spain, to Russia and Japan, picking up a few words in different languages, enough to get by, visiting the tourist traps, and the quiet places recommended by locals who recognized a man searching for something. He learned spells in different languages and, in Africa, learned how to use conjure fire and water without a wand from the tribal mages, who knew that it was important for survival if he was running around the wilds of Africa, and visited dragon preserves in China. He picked up new recipes in Egypt; one of the few things the Dursleys had given him was a love of cooking. In New York, he learnt that the Wizarding world was hopelessly blind to the extent of lycanthropy, and was there when Vampires became legal citizens. He left shortly after, knowing that the it would take a while for people to accept it completely, and not wanting to somehow get involved in anything bad, which, knowing his luck, he would. 

Sometimes, he would get an itchy feeling, as though his magic was telling him that it definitely wasn’t the right place for him (Russia- far too cold for him) other times, he would feel like he just needed to go to a certain place, just to visit. But none of the places he visited felt like home.


	3. Chapter 3

The air was hot and humid, leaving a sticky film of sweat over his body. It seemed like the sun was glaring down on him angrily as he sat on the old wooden bench, surrounded by flowers. The dark haired wizard raised a bottle of to his mouth and took a sip of the ice cool water, enjoying the way it made the condensation roll over his fingers. In the background, he could hear people chatting and children playing, but he pushed the sounds away and tried to enjoy the sights around him.

 

He looked on the colourful petals of the day lilies and saw a butterfly dancing lazily between the flowers and sighed. He had arrived in St Louis in the early hours of the morning, apparating from the cooler climates of Seattle and its iconic Space Needle. It was touted as the supernatural hot spot of America, a view that Harry still found almost confusing considering the reserved way muggle and even wizarding Britain treated the supernatural.

 

Although the magical world was still kept relatively quiet in England, the Americans seemed to have a more relaxed (although strangely intolerant) view of magic and all it entailed. Vampire? Fine. Legal citizens and rights aplenty. Shifter? Alright, as long as you’re not related to me or working near me. Witch? You’d better not use magic on me, but as long as you keep it quiet, we’re all good. It made him dizzy trying to understand the politics of it all, but the Dursleys had taught him that people fear what they don’t understand.

 

Harry stretched, raising his arms high up over his head and grunted with satisfaction at the pull on his muscles before rising up and slinging his bag casually over his shoulder. He walked along the path towards the path of the and into the welcoming chill of the air conditioned café of the St Louis botanical gardens.

 

Reaching the counter, he brushed his messy hair out of the way. “Excuse me, miss. I was just wondering if there are any hotels nearby? I just arrived in the area this morning and haven’t yet found anywhere to stay”

 

What had once been an adolescent breaking squeak had deepened over the years and thanks to the war had turned slightly husky, like he had a permanent sore throat. It caught the attention of the bored looking woman behind the counter, who had previously been wiping the counter.

 

“Not from around here, huh? Gap year, I’m guessing. See your type in here all the time,” The woman looked him up and down, taking in his scruffy appearance with his sturdy boots, comfortable jeans, t-shirt and wild hair. “Go out the main entrance, take a left, then a right along Jackson Boulevard, and two blocks over you’ll find a motel. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a safe area. Away from the blood district, but not an expensive part of town.”

 

“Thanks.” Harry said, taking a moment to memorize the instructions.” Hey, can you recommend any local attractions? I’m only here for a few days but I want to make the most of it while I’m here.”

 

“Depends on what kind of fun you’re looking for.” Once again the blonde looked him up and down, “Can’t tell these days, you get all sorts. You’ve got the Gateway arch, the old courthouse, the art and history museum and the zoo. Of course, if you’re one of _those_ ,” She sneered “Then you’ll want the Blood District on the other side of town.”

 

“I’m sorry, one of what?” Harry said sharply, the sneer reminding him strangely of both Aunt Petunia and Narcissa Malfoy.

 

“One of those thrill seekers. Following the supernatural around like groupies. If that’s the case, then you’ll be wanting to visit the Circus and the shops there. Only open after sunset.”

 

“I think I’m done here. Thanks for the advice.”

 

No matter where you go in the world, there will always be bigots, Harry told himself and swept out of the café, the humidity smacking him in the face and the brightness of the sun  caused him to squint unhappily.

 

 Despite the woman’s attitude, he followed her directions. Or rather, he attempted to. Confused by the term ‘blocks’, he quickly found himself turned around and lost in the stream of people, pushed this way and that as people went about their business . On the bustling street he was unable to discretely draw his wand to cast a ‘point me’ spell. He looked around for and signs pointing to a hotel, but only found signs to the city centre or the underground.

 

Frustrated, Harry ducked into the nearest doorway, deciding to ask for directions and found himself in a bar. He sighed with relief, the air conditioning making him feel like he had walked into a freezer, and the pleasant lack of humidity added to the sharpness of the chill. The windows were all dark glass, leaving the room dim and gloomy, the only real light came from the glowing beer signs and red-hot cigarette butts smoked by some patrons, which left a stale smell in the air.

 

The wizard made his way past shadowy booths half full with people, up to the bar where a tall, grim looking man was pouring a drink

 

The atmosphere in the bar wasn’t the most welcoming, and their seemed to be an air of suspicion at a stranger in the bar. Harry weighed his options and decided that he wasn’t looking for any trouble. He might as well ask someone on the street.  

 

He turned and bumped into the most beautiful woman he had even seen. Pale, with thick chocolate curls, she was perfectly proportioned from head to toe. She towered over him (it wasn’t hard, most people did thanks to a mixture of his mother’s genetics and poor nutrition that even Hogwarts Healer couldn’t mend) and held a glass of wine away from her, rich red liquid dripping from the rim of the glass and splashing on the floor.

 

“Hey, are you ok?”

 

“Sorry, my fault.” Harry smiled, apologetically. “Let me buy you another.”

 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re leaving soon anyway.” She nodded to a blonde in the booth next him. The man was watching them carefully, giving the appearance of calm, but to Harry it was clear that he was ready to intervene if necessary.  

 

Harry waved at him and turned back to the woman and took the opportunity to say, “I’m new in town and a bit lost. You don’t happen to know of any motels nearby, do you?”

 

“The nearest motel is over by the stadium. It can get a bit noisy, but there’s no game tonight. It’s only a 5 minute walk.”

 

Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Harry asked her for directions. As noted down the route on the back of his hand, he noticed her nostrils flair and an expression that he couldn’t quite make out flashed across her face – hesitance, regret, maybe- before it smoothed over. “Hey, since you’re new in town, you should check out the Blood District.”

 

The woman went into her bag and fished around inside it, before she pulled out a small card and handed it to him. “Greg and I work in the area, so you might see us around.”

 

“Thanks. For this, and the directions. You’ve saved me from a night kipping out under the stars.” He straightened up and tucked the pen away and offered a smile.

 

Her eyes flashed amber momentarily, “Probably not the best thing to do in St Louis. The motel books up fast, so you’d better get going.”

 

Bemused, Harry walked out the door. Shifters…always thought that they were being subtle. He supposed that they probably had been, unless you knew what to look for.

 

He looked down at the card the woman had given him. It was a thick cream card, blank apart from the deep black ink of cursive script. _Guilty Pleasures._ He turned over the card to find the word ‘ _Zane_ ’ scrawled across the back. It was an unusual name for an unusual woman, but coming from the wizarding world, he’d definitely heard worse. Tucking the card into his pocket, he merged smoothly with the pedestrian traffic outside the bar and headed in the direction of the motel.


	4. Chapter 4

Lying on a scratchy blanket, the green eyed wizard looked at the ceiling of his motel room, noticing water stains blooming on the ceiling near the bathroom. He felt restless. It was his third day in St Louis, and he had already been to the city zoo, the museum, the art gallery…but he was getting itchy feet. Maybe it was time for him to move on? He certainly hadn’t found a reason to stay.

Rolling off the lumpy twin bed, Harry started gathering his things. It was still early enough for him to find somewhere else to go, plus, with the time differences across America, he could always choose somewhere with a bit more day light left. Maybe Colorado? He’d heard good things about the National Park, especially the heavily warded dragon reserve. Charlie Weasley had heard good things about the park and mentioned that it would make in interesting trip, if he were ever in the area.

Packing away the few things that he had removed from his bags, Harry prepared to leave. He was folding a pair of jeans away when a flash of black and cream caught his eye. He bent down and picked up the thick business card.

“Guilty Pleasures…” He hummed thoughtfully. He flicked the card between his fingers for a moment, indecisive, then put the card in his pocket and grabbed a jacket. Maybe one more night wouldn’t hurt.

\---------------------------------------

When Harry climbed out of the taxi, he found that he wasn’t impressed. The blood district seemed to lack the decadent glitz and the glamour that he’d seen in other, wizarding, vampire districts. Cold, concrete walls with little decoration and trite clichéd names such as ‘The Laughing Corpse’ and ‘Danse Macabre’ illuminated by neon signs, gave the district and dingy and unappealing appearance.

Despite this the square was heaving; people were queueing in every direction and a mixture of burly bouncers and suave seducers stood at the entrance of each building to charm patrons into waiting for admittance.

It was clearly aimed at thrill seekers who wanted a hint of supernatural, but not too much. It feed into their excitement, lending an edge of danger to their expectations without revealing the true nature, the reality, of vampires.

Harry felt a twinge of loneliness as he looked around and saw groups of friends; giggling tipsy women on a girls night, men clearly out looking for fun and well on their way to being drunk, hen parties, couples…and there he was on his own. Maybe it was worth looking for Zane? She said that she worked in the area, and she had seemed friendly enough.

His thoughts changed to Ron and Hermione. He wondered what they would make of this? But they were safe in England, baby on the way, waiting for Harry to return and make him a godfather twice over.

Bracing himself, Harry made his way over to the red flashing lights declaring ‘Guilty Pleasures’. He joined the end of the line, next to a hen party with a nervous looking bride-to-be tittering with her friends. Clearly more a Hermione type, who would rather be at home.

Fortunately, the line seemed to move fairly quickly and he found himself shuffling through the coat check (“Please hand over any religious items, such as crosses, before entering the club.”) and into the club with the hen party, who had enjoyed the gentle flirtations of the shifter by the door. His innuendos making the bride flush bright red and her friends to cackle gleefully.

Walking through the door, the noise hit him like a wave. The music blared loudly, but not loud enough to cover the catcalls from the audience, most of whom hungrily stood around the large stage towards the back of the club like lions circling prey. He snorted red to himself. It was rather apt considering that there were clearly shifters circling the club and working behind the bar.

On the stage, a man with long auburn hair was bending in quite an impressive way, showing off a lithe body beneath a waistcoat and his rather tiny underwear (if it could even be called that). He ripped his waistcoat off to the approval of the crowd, leading to more leering and money being thrown on the stage.

Making his way through the sea of people, Harry headed to the bar. Behind the bar was a weaselly looking vampire who likely wouldn’t have been able to keep up with the demanding patrons if he had not been supernatural. When it was his turn, he ordered a whiskey and moved to find a chair at one of the tables placed evenly around the edge of the room.

A strip club was not really a place that interested him, in all honesty, and now that he was here, he was beginning to wish he had just moved on. Unfortunately, it was getting on a bit even if he did cross time zones and he’d paid for the hotel room for another night.

He sipped at his whiskey and looked around the dim outskirts of the room taking in the crowds, the dim lighting around the edges of the room, casting deep shadows over the tabled seating, which screamed anonymity, to the giggles, laughter and leering of those stood around the stage in the centre of the room, whose faces where bathed in the stage lighting.

The music changed to a more slow moving song as the auburn haired man (well, shifter) was replaced with another man, blonde this time. He prowled sinuously around the stage, writhing and flexing to the pleasure of the audience.

Harry finished his drink and waved to catch the attention of one of the scantily clad waiter who were gracefully touring the floor with heavy trays of drinks, moving through the crowds somehow managing not to bump into anyone, or spill a drop of their drinks.

“Hi, I’m looking for someone, she said that she worked in the area?”

“I’m sorry sir, private dances should be arranged with the dancers. I can pass a message on, but you would have more luck waiting to speak to the dancer.” The apologetic waiter said, but it was said wearily, in the way of someone who had answered a question too many times.

Harry spluttered and flushed red “No! No, not like that! I met her this afternoon and she gave me this card.” He held up the business card and turned it so that the name was on show. “Said that I should explore the blood district and it had her name written on it. Does she work here? If not, I’ll head off. I only came by on the off chance that she was here. She was with a friend and the both seemed really nice.”

The waiter looked at the card and raised an eyebrow. The wizard squirmed under what was clearly a judging stare, but he was unsure why.

“Wait here.” The man walked off and merged into the crowd surrounding the bar.

Fiddling with the empty whisky glass, he debated just getting up and going back to the hotel room. If he went to bed soon, he could get up and leave early in the morning. His thoughts turned to where he could go next when he was startled by a body sliding into the seat next to him.  
Looking up, he took in the man’s appearance. He had a long almost stretched out body, leather trousers and a black mesh vest which covered a muscular chest. His hair was snow-white, cut tight around the sides covered in stiff, moussed spikes on top. Most interesting was his face. Sharply pointed fangs poked out from under his upper lip drawing attention aware from a broken-too-many-times-to-heal-properly nose, but not enough to distract from the gleaming cat like eyes. A shifter. One who had spent too much time in his other form.

When the shifter spoke, his voice rumbled. “I hear you’re looking for me.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Harry said, “I think there’s been a mistake? I was looking for a woman; tall, with brown curly hair?”

“There’s no mistake. That’s Vivian. She’s $200 for the hour, $800 for the night.” It was said in a brisk, business-like manner.

“What? No!”

“Listen, I don’t negotiate. Those are the prices. If you’re looking for something cheaper, pick up a floozy from the bar,” He sneered, “But they won’t give you a good time like Vivian. She’s a shifter; very flexible and can be whoever you want her to be. I’ve never had any complaints about her.”

Feeling completely out of his depth, Harry stood up indignantly, not caring if he was drawing a scene. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not interested. I came because a nice woman said to check out the Blood District. I asked about her, on the off chance that she was here, maybe we could have had a chat. I’m not here very long, so I thought it would be nice to make a friend. I’m not looking for a prostitute, or whatever it is you’re trying to sell.”

Pushing past the man, Harry decided it was time to leave, when his arm was caught in a vice grip. He looked back to see the man had his hand wrapped around Harry’s upper arm and snarl “Listen, kid. Here’s the deal. Pay the $200 and you can leave, with or without her. I don’t care if you get your dick wet, in fact it’s better for me if you don’t because I can find someone else quick enough. But you’ve just wasted my time, so hand the money over.”

The grip on his arm turned sharp, and Harry glanced down to see finger nails had changed into gleaming claws. The wizard went cold with anger and his face went blank. His magic simmered beneath his skin and he felt his muscles tense as he grabbed the hand gripping his arm. “I’m not interested. I’m not paying. I. Am. Leaving.”

His magic sent a sharp zap of lightning down his hands, making the shifter hiss and release his grip enough for harry to wrench his arm away. “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running, but you’re not getting a penny from me. If anyone tries anything, they won’t like the results.”

Eyes flashing furiously, Harry stormed away from the table, leaving the growling shifter behind him. He moved through the coat check, tense and alert for any signs of trouble. Fortunately it seemed that almost everyone, apart from the tables nearest to where he had been sat, was engaged by the blonde performer on the stage, who was now down to just a pair of chaps.

He knew that he wouldn’t feel entirely safe until he was back in his hotel room with a few wards up, so kept his guard up as he left the club. Every giggle or scream of excitement for the queueing people making him twitch while he walked down the road.

That was when he heard it. An ear piercing scream, one that reeked of fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have never been to a strip club, so any information has been completely made up!


	5. Chapter 5

Spinning about, Harry tried to work out where the sound had come from, but it was nearly impossible to work out over the sound of the shouting and giggling people waiting to enter the clubs. 

Then he heard it again. It seemed weaker. 

“Point me.” Harry muttered, balancing his wand on his flat palm. The wand spun furiously, then stopped so suddenly that it quivered for a moment. East. He closed his fist tight and sprinted down the street, looking into the alleys as he passed them, feet slapping the ground. 

His wand vibrated in his grip, he was getting close. He continued to run until his wand sent a jolt of electricity into his hand. Here. 

The green eyed wizard stood in front of an enormous warehouse. Inside he heard people moving about. It could have been a trap, but for who?   
He thought about the scream, the sheer terror he heard, and decided to press on. Walking quietly, he looked around for an entrance, and found a door down the side of the building. It was open, just a tad. Enough for him to slid through and sneak into the old, dusty building. 

He kept his wand out ready, walking through aisle upon aisle filled with cardboard boxes containing who knows what. Silently, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself and winced. It felt like someone had cracked an egg on his head, slime dripping down his body but when he looked at his arm, it had gone, or rather it had taken on the exact colour and texture of the cardboard box next to him. 

Moving forward, his eyes scanned the room. He was coming up to the end of the aisle when a man walked across. Harry froze. The man was wearing a stark grey suit, shiny leather shoe, with a gun holstered at his hip. He was carrying what looked like chains and as he walked something dripped. Drip, clink, drip, clink, drip, clink. It faded as the man moved further into the warehouse. 

Harry moved forward. Step by step, he stayed alert, knowing that he must be close. He hadn’t heard the scream again, but he could hear the quiet chatter of low voices and underneath that, he could hear a gasping, wheezing sound. 

At the end of the aisle, Harry turned left. It lead into an enormous open space and with it brought the thick, tangy smell of blood. 

In the middle of the room, sprawled across the floor in a pool of blood, intestines lying wetly on the ground, was a nude man. He was covered in his own blood, the flash of silver chains binding his hands above his head were the only break in colour.

Inching closer, Harry crouched near the man on the floor. His face was twisted in agony. Up close, he could see that under the chains that man’s wrists were blistering. A shifter in silver chains. Right. The wizard didn’t know anything about the man, but he knew that he needed to help. There was no one else there, but the muttering voices could still be heard, so they must be nearby. 

Mindful of the voices, he muttered a spell, slowing the flow of blood and sending intestines back to where they were supposed to be, and sticking spell to make sure that they stayed there. The wizard hoped that the man’s healing would kick in quickly. Another spell unlocked the cuffs and they fell open with a quiet click. 

Cautious and careful, Harry levitated the man and winced as the movement caused a loud groan. A hastily applied silencing was applied and he set off, man levitating behind him. 

He slinked back along the aisles, keeping his eyes peeled just in case the man in the suit returned from whatever he was doing with the chains. 

Just as he reached the entrance, Harry heard angry shouting and running footsteps. 

He bolted, the man still floating beside him. 

Rounding the corner he smacked straight into someone and bounced back onto the floor. 

“Nathaniel?” It was said tremulously. Harry looked up to see a man with long blonde hair and around his height, looking at the floating man in disbelief. He turned to Harry with a snarl. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

“He needs help, call an ambulance!” Harry barked. He could have apparated to a hospital, yes, but the only one he knew was St Mungo’s; too far to apparate with someone in tow. He checked on the shifter, Nathaniel, floating beside him. He was fading quickly, skin pale and waxy with blood loss.

The other man fumbled in his pockets for a phone, and dialed the number with clumsy fingers. “Hello, I need an ambulance. My friend, he’s been hurt. I don’t know but we’re in front of a warehouse just off Bremen Avenue-“

“Listen,” the wizard hissed, aware of the footsteps growing closer, “We need to move away from here. I think whoever did this has discovered that he’s missing. If we can move back to somewhere more populated, it will be harder for them to do anything.”

“We’ll be in the Blood District, middle of the square. Hurry!” The blonde haired man, another shifter Harry realised, hung up the phone and turned to him. “Can you keep him like that while we move?”

Harry nodded sharply. He retraced his footsteps, keeping an eye on Nathaniel and the other shifter who was running next to him, hand held firmly while he told the injured man that he would be ok. 

It was with relief that he heard sirens screaming and they burst onto the main square of the blood district to see the ambulance waiting, paramedics looking around for their patient.Without stopping and ignoring the pandemonium their entrance had created, Harry levitated Nathaniel onto the gurney and began barking out information. “I found him like this, tied up in silver chains. He had been gutted and left to bleed out. I think he’s lost a lot of blood. He’s a shifter, but his healing’s not kick started yet. It might be too much damage.”

One of the paramedics, a tall man with dark eyes, leaped into the front of the ambulance and started the engine. The other, a woman with sharp, grey eyes, started loading Nathaniel into the back of the ambulance. “Are you coming with us or going?” She asked while inserting an IV line, “ The police will want to speak to you.”

Harry looked at the pale blonde shifter next to him, who looked at him anxiously. “We’ll come with you. He knows the victim.” Harry nodded at the shifter. 

They clambered in and the ambulance jerked as they began to speed off. 

 

.   
\---------------------------------------------------

“Hello?” Stephen said softly into the phone, the lack of volume failing to conceal his panic. “Thank god…can you come down to St Louis University Hospital? No, it’s not me…” 

Harry tuned out the rest, and emerged himself into his thoughts. He rubbed his hands, feeling revulsion at the tackiness of the drying blood. He had done the right thing, following that scream. 

The other shifter had introduced himself as Stephen, a werewolf. The wizard didn’t know much beyond what Stephen had told him, just that the man he had saved, Nathaniel, was a wereleopard and a prostitute. 

The moment Nathaniel had been whisked away by the nurses, Harry had sank down into a chair in the waiting room and tried to relax as much as he could. He didn’t know what was going to happen to the shifter, if he would survive, but Harry would have to wait to speak to the police, so he knew he’d be waiting a while. 

Stephen had spent the entire time they had been waiting, trying to get through to another member of Nathaniel’s pard, but without success. Each failed call leaving him visibly distressed. 

When a nurse came out to tell them that the surgery had been successful, Stephen, a werewolf, had jumped to his feet. He said that he had one last person he could try. A friend (or close to it. Amanda? Alice? Anita? Harry hadn’t really been paying attention). It sounded like he had connected. 

Stephen’s voice suddenly became louder, with false cheerfulness ringing out from every word. The wizard looked up sharply to see the shifter from the club stalk into the waiting room. 

Stephen seemed to freeze. “Hello, Zane. Have you seen Nathaniel yet?” The werewolf looked pale and his eyes darted around nervously while clutching the phone tightly. 

The blonde haired man, who Harry remembered from the club, said coldly “I’m here to take him back.”

“I don’t think they want him to go just yet. He’s hurt.” Stephen took a step back at the resulting growl, but was not fast enough to avoid being slammed into the wall, phone still in hand, by the enraged Zane whose eyes flashed angrily. 

Other people in the waiting room shifted nervously. A teenager with chunky headphones turned the volume up, clearly anticipating a loud argument, while a mother grabbed her two children from the floor of the waiting room where they had been playing with toys. Another man, one clutching a bloody rag around his hand hunched down into his seat, keeping his eyes fixed to the floor. 

“He’ll go home when I tell him too.” the emotionless response infuriated Harry. 

The wizard stood up angrily, causing the plastic chair to screech in protest at the abrupt movement and moved across the room to pull Zane away. Stephen slid down the wall, huddling under the shelf holding the phone, his eyes wide with terror. 

“Stephen told you no.” Harry snapped. “That man is seriously hurt and needs medical attention. You aren’t taking him anywhere!”

His grip was slapped away as the shifter moved towards him, trying to be intimidating. “Nathaniel is mine, keep away from him. This has nothing to do with you.”

“It became my business when I had to rescue him after he was wrapped in silver and sliced open like a gutted fish.” Harry hissed, temper flaring and magic crackling in the air. He refused to back down to such a disgusting man. 

He could hear Stephen whispering in the background and spared a brief glance to check that he was fine before turning his attention back to the leather clad man in front of him. “I don’t care what kind of business you run, but that kind of carelessness is abhorrent. You don’t seem to realize that if I hadn’t heard screaming, Nathanial would be dead.”

“He doesn’t belong to you,” Zane snarled, his eyes turned amber and his teeth began slightly elongate. Harry looked down to see that instead of nails, Zane had thick black claws. His muscles were tense, ready to move, but wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid Zane when he leapt forward and into Harry, sending him flying into the wall behind him with a bang. 

A nurse screamed and an alarm sounded. Chairs toppled as people rushed to the exits, children crying and doors slammed. Harry rolled to his feet and saw Zane take a deep sniff and stalk down the hallway at the other end of the room. 

Ignoring the ache of his back, he chased after him. Harry didn’t know why Zane was so desperate to get Nathaniel, but judging by his anger, it would be nothing good. He followed the trail of destruction left by the shifter; doors hanging off their hinges, shouting nurses and knocked over trolleys with medical equipment scattered over the floor. 

He turned a corner to see Zane’s white hair and raised his wand, shouting “Immobulus!”

At the sound of his voice, Zane had swung around, and managed to duck under the spell and throw a tray at him. Harry dodged to the side and tried again, but was too late as the shifter darted around another corridor.

“Impedimenta!” Harry cursed as the spell failed to trip the man. He followed him and tried again. “Incarcerous!”

The spell hit the leopard squarely in the back, thick ropes wrapping around the man’s body like snakes, binding his arms tightly to his body and momentum slammed him to the ground.

Harry slowed to a jog. When he reached Zane, he bent down beside the shifter to see if he was conscious only to be thrown back as Zane managed to snap the ropes, muscles bulging. The leopard surged forward and pushed Harry to the ground, razor sharp claws digging into his chest. He roared in his face, spittle flying and teethe gleaming. Claws hooked into Harry’s clothes, he flung the wizard away from him and continued his rampage down the corridor. 

Harry hurtled into a hospital bed, knocking it flying and hit his head against the floor with a smack. He raised a hand to his head and frowned as it came away sticky with blood.

Determinedly, he staggered to his feet. The wizard pushed down a wave of nausea and ran, jumping over scattered scalpels. He turned the corner to see a nurse unconscious on the floor, a small cut on their head and a woman dressed in hospital robe hiding under a desk. “Which way?” He demanded, heart pounding.

She pointed shakily to the door on the opposite side of the room. Harry sprinted over and into yet another corridor, this time filled with curtains hanging from metal tracks, forming dozens of examination rooms. As he ran past, he saw flashes of nervous faces. 

He heard glass shattering and skidded around the corner in time to see a lady in surgical scrubs go flying. She hit the ground hard in the middle of the broken glass and there was a sickening snap. Her leg bounced up and an unnatural angle and she screamed, face white with pain. A doctor is a white coat was shouting for security, barely heard over the blaring alarm. 

Harry caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Zane step out into the corridor, a bloodied Nathanial in his arms, looking like he’s just step foot out of a horror movie. He snarled at Harry, daring him to come closer. 

With a clear target, Harry bellowed “Petrificus Totalus!” Zane’s arms snapped to his sides, legs slamming together, his body rigidly straight as the body binding charm toppled him over to the floor with a thud. 

A levitation charm ensured that Nathanial hovered in mid-air, long auburn hair hanging down to brush the ground. 

Harry took a deep breath. He could feel his magic working to stop the shifter from throwing off the curse but the leopard just wasn’t strong enough, despite the mild resistance magical creatures seemed to have to magic thanks to their own latent magic (muggle shifters, or not).

With a flick of his wand, Harry sent Nathaniel’s unconscious body back into his room. His body had just floated gently to the bed when the doors burst open and a short dark haired woman burst into the room, gun out. 

“Stop what you’re fucking doing or I’ll shoot!”

Harry stopped. 

“Move a muscle and I’ll put a fucking bullet in your brain.” The woman barked, edging around the side of the room to check on Nathaniel. Her gun stayed pointed at him, unwavering as she used her spare hand to check Nathanial’s pulse. 

The wizard remained motionless apart from his heaving chest, still out of breath from the race down the corridors. The alarm still wailed above him, adding to the tension in the room. 

“Are you Anita?” He asked tentatively, unsure if he would get shot for simple asking a question. 

The curly haired woman ignored him, her petite features set angrily as she moved towards him. “Get on the ground. If you try anything, I have silver bullets in this gun. You’re under arrest. When the police arrive, you are going to do everything they tell you to do. No arguments, no fighting, or I will kill you. Do you understand me, Zane?”

“But-“

“Do you understand me!?” 

“Yes.” Harry sighed and slowly led, face down, on the hard laminate floor. Clearly he was going to have to wait for the police. Stephen’s friend, Anita, plainly wasn’t in the mood to listen.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Stephen arrived, stepping hesitantly into the room as if he were unsure of what to expect, despite his senses telling him that everything was ok. “Anita, is…Harry, why are you on the floor?” 

Harry raised his head and had to snort at the completely baffled look on the shifter’s face. 

“Harry?” Anita said, confused, but still kept her gun pointed at him.

“Yes, Harry. He was the one who saved Nathaniel and helped get him to the hospital.”

“Zane is the one lead on the floor over there,” Harry chimed in and jerked his head towards the other side of the room where Zane lay, still under the power of the body locking curse. “He’s cursed, so he won’t move.”

Stephen scurried forwards and helped Harry to his feet, ignoring Anita. The dark haired man stood up gingerly, aware more than ever of the pain in his back and ribs as the adrenaline began to fade and turned to face Anita. “Harry Potter, Ms. Blake. Just to let you know, I’m a wizard. Zane is under a body locking curse. He’s still conscious, but will be unable to move until I remove the spell. I’d rather not do that until the police are here.”

He picked up an overturned chair and gingerly sat down next to Nathanial’s bed. While Stephen gave in to Anita’s demands and explained what had happened, Harry looked over the unconscious man next to him. Under the harsh hospital lights, his skin was so pale, it was almost translucent. Thick eyelashes were closed and long auburn hair, tangled and knotted with dried blood hung over the pillow and there were thick white bandages dotted with blood wrapped around his torso. 

Suddenly the alarms cut off and left a ringing silence. He looked up to see Anita stood over Zane, taking in the rigid posture and bristly body language of the woman in front of him. For all that Stephen had said that the woman was entirely human, she certainly gave the impression of a pissed off cat. 

He settled himself down in the rigid, unforgiving chair. It was clearly going to be a longer night than he had first anticipated. He smiled to himself; this was the most fun he’d had in a while. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the time that it took the police to arrive, question everyone involved, arrest Zane and take him away (curse free), three long hours had passed and Harry had been checked over by a doctor, who declared him concussion-less, but used butterfly stitches to seal the wound on his head. His ribs and back did not have any fractures, but he had the feeling that his torso would look like Van Gogh’s ‘The Starry Night’ in the morning unless he managed to get back to his hotel room and use some bruise paste. 

Nathaniel’s healing had continued to work, but still significantly reduced thanks to the lingering effects of the silver weapons used to hurt him. His skin had a bit more colour in, and, according to the nurses, his vitals were approaching what was normal for a shifter, although his stomach had still not healed. 

Since the Police (RPIT, Anita had called them) had left, Stephen had revealed more information about Nathaniel’s situation and it also shed light about his meeting in the club last night. 

Apparently, the pard used to have a leader, a lion passant (an alpha wereleopard who leads but doesn’t protect the pard, Stephen explained when Harry looked at him blankly) called Gabriel who forced the pard into making pornographic films and prostitution. Stephen’s friend Anita, who was a vampire executioner, killed him which had left the pard floundering in the supernatural sinkhole that was St Louis and the next strongest leopard, Zane, had stepped in, following in the footsteps of the previous leader. 

From Stephen’s description, it sounded like Zane lead with threats and intimidation, forcing the pard to remain in prostitution, while they all lived in a one room apartment.

“Look, Stephen, I could offer the leopards some protection as Lupa, but I can’t take on the pard. I have too much on my hands! I’m a vampire executioner, I still work at Bert’s, I’m dating the Master of the City and I’m Lupa to the Thronnos Rokke Clan. I literally don’t have any more time, I’m sorry.”

“Nathaniel needs help, Anita, please!” Stephen begged softly. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, but look at him! You killed Gabriel and that makes it your responsibility. Zane’s not strong enough to protect them. He’s not a leader and the pard need help. You have enough power and status to do at least something more than just offering them protection. If they don’t have a proper leader, another Gabriel or Zane will come along and they’ll end up tortured and killed in some back alley.”

The werewolf was in tears, but it seemed to do very little to break Anita’s resolve.   
The argument had been going on for some time, without a solution. It was clear to Harry that something had to be done, but with his small knowledge of shifters, he could offer no solution. 

“I’ll send some wolves down to guard Nathaniel and stop Zane getting to him, but I really need to go, Stephen, I have raisings to do tonight and I have to go down to the station tomorrow.”

Stephen went white. “No, please, no wolves!”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Anita forced Stephen to look at her. 

“Raina and Gabriel used wolves in their films too, and used the leopards to punish the pack. Most of the wolves hate the leopards. Sylvie would have hunted them all down and killed them if Richard hadn’t forbidden it. They won’t help. I’ll be torn apart for helping like I have.” Stephen kept his gaze firmly, submissively on the floor. If he had been any more submissive, he would have been lead on the floor, belly up and throat exposed. 

“I’ve seen those films, and I’m not surprised that Sylvie isn’t happy, but I can’t sit here and babysit until Nathaniel heals up, Stephen.” It was said sympathetically, but it didn’t help.   
Stephen sunk to the ground and began to cry; heaving, gulping sobs tearing from his body. 

Harry tried to look away, but couldn’t wrench his eyes from the sight of the desperate wolf. His heart tugged, thinking of Teddy and Remus. He knew the Remus had lived a hard life, without any support until he came to Hogwarts and met the Marauders. He couldn’t bear to think of what might have happened to Remus if Dumbledore hadn’t been lenient. 

He stood up. 

“I’ll look after Nathaniel.” He said firmly. “I don’t know about the rest of the pard, but I can keep an eye on him while he’s in the hospital, at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has sat on my computer for most of the week and been edited over and over again. I'm still not happy about the dialogue and feel that the characters are likely too OCC, but if I stare at this chapter any longer, I'll start to go cross eyed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, can't believe it's been a month. Work has been busy the last few weeks, and I've fallen asleep pretty much the moment I got home. Sorry, guys.

The steady beep of Nathaniel’s heart monitor was like a metronome, ticking off the time while Harry waited in the uncomfortable chair next to the shifters bed. Stephen and Anita had long since left; Stephen to work and Anita to sleep.

 

It had taken a long time to persuade Stephen to go off to his shift, still wary of Harry despite his sincerity. Anita, on the other hand, had cleared out swiftly, satisfied that someone was going to take this problem off her hands. Despite that, she had still pressed a business card into Harry’s hands before she left, telling him to call if anyone else showed up.

 

There was very little to do. A sympathetic nurse had brought him some magazines from the waiting room, and despite his lack of interest in the latest celebrity gossip and fashion trends, Harry had found himself reading every word thanks to his boredom. He had never been good at waiting. Hermione would probably use the time to study, magically producing a book out of her infamous purse. Ron, on the other hand, would happily be playing chess. Unfortunately without access to his trunk, he could do no research to find out what he had got himself into, and there was no other conscious person around to play chess with, even if he did have a board, which he didn't.

 

He was just nodding off when he felt something approach. The dark-haired man stood up just as there was a knock on the door. A brunette nurse, one who had changed Nathaniel’s bandages earlier, opened the door. “Mr. Potter, there are some people here who say they are relatives of Mr. Graison?”

 

Harry tensed. Stephen had said that Nathaniel didn’t have family, so it must be pard. Whether it was someone here to look after Nathaniel, or here to cause trouble, was anyone’s guess. “That’s fine, Abbi, let them in.”

 

She disappeared and three people walked into the room, blocking the doorway with their presence. Werewolves. He pulled out his wand, making sure that he was stood between Nathaniel and the intruders. “You’re not related to Nathaniel, and you’re not leopards, you’re wolves. Why are you here?” He demanded.

 

The tallest one, a man, spoke in the gruff voice of a smoker. “Our Lupa, Anita Blake, sent us.”

 

“Anita didn’t tell me she was sending anyone.” Harry said cautiously, ready to curse them if necessary.

 

“Lupa called each of us and told use to get here to protect a leopard from Sylvie. She told us to get you to call her.” The wolf chucked a mobile to Harry, who caught it deftly.

 

Harry found Anita’s number already pulled up on the screen and pressed ‘call’, keeping an eye on the strangers in the room.

 

“What.” It was barked down the phone by a sleepy and pissed off sounding woman, who was _definitely_ Anita.

 

“Anita, it’s Harry. I’ve got three wolves here saying that you’ve sent them. I wanted to check before calling the police.” The wizard informed her calmly.

 

There was a grumble at the other end of the phone and the sound of fabric rustling. “Yeah,” Anita confirmed. “I ordered some of the wolves to get down to the hospital for back up in case Zane came back or Sylvie tried something. There should be three: Kevin, Lorraine and Teddy.”

 

“That’s great, but could you give me some more information so that I know that I’ve got the right people?” there was just a touch of irritation in Harry’s voice, but mostly he was glad the wolves didn’t seem to be a threat.

 

“Pass me over.”

Harry tossed the phone back, knowing that they had just heard the conversation and then took a step back to make sure he was out of grabbing distance.

 

There was a quick discussion, mostly “Yes, Lupa” from this end, while he couldn’t hear what Anita said, before he was handed the phone back.  

 

“They are who they say they are.” Was the brusque reply, then he heard the dial tone.

 

He stared bemusedly at the phone, then Harry turned around. The three werewolves awkwardly stood together in the doorway waiting for Harry’s permission to come in, looking as different as possible: Kevin was tall, thin, dark, scruffy, and reeked of cigarettes. Lorraine was tiny. She looked like a retired teacher, despite probably being around Harry’s age; prim, neatly pressed clothes which wouldn’t look out of place on his Aunt and gave the impression of a nervous rabbit rather than a werewolf but she oozed power. An interesting contradiction. Teddy, on the other hand, was like a rugby player. 300lb of pure muscle with a buzz cut.

 

Harry put his wand away and relaxed slightly before introducing himself. Within ten minutes, the wolves had proven their competence, quickly arranging a shift to ensure that at least one of them would be guarding Harry and Nathaniel at all times. Teddy and Lorraine left quickly, leaving the slightly less intimidating Kevin to start his guard shift.

 

“I’m going to make a quick call to my hotel, I was due to check out this morning and I don’t want them to chuck my stuff out.” Harry informed Kevin tiredly. “If there’s any trouble, shout.” Although he would know before the shifter made a sound thanks to the wards he’d places around the room.

 

“If Zane or Sylvie show up, we’ll send them to you. Anita was clear that you can look after yourself. I’m just here as back up and to look after Nathaniel.” Kevin said it with only slight scepticism. While Harry didn’t look like much, he did smell of magic, and as Kevin knew, appearances didn’t mean much when it came to the supernatural world. Look at Lorraine; 5 foot nothing and as mousey as could be, yet she could beat him in a fight with one hand tied behind her back.  

 

Harry nodded. “You do that. I said that I’d look after him, and I take that seriously. Poor bloke seems to have had a shit time of it recently.”

 

Walking confidently out the room, Harry made his way over to the nurse’s station and was directed to a pay-phone further down the busy corridor. He dialled and waited patiently, ignoring the harried looking nurses marching quickly past him in both directions. It might be around 10am here but it was 4am in London. The phone only had time to ring twice before it was picked up and another tired female voice whispered “Hello?” 

 

“Hey ‘Mione.”

 

Immediately questions began firing down the phone like spells in a duel. “Harry! How are you? What’s the matter? What did you do now-“

 

“Hey!” Harry indignantly interrupted the flow of questions “Can’t a bloke call his best mates just to speak to them? Why does something have to be wrong?”

 

There was a moment of silence, then.” Because we know you, Harry James Potter. You are a magnet for trouble. Anyway, I know that you’re in America right now and you’ve been very mindful of the time difference up until now…”

 

Harry grinned sheepishly. “Ok, maaaaaybe I was caught up in some trouble last night, but it wasn’t my fault!”

 

“Oh, Harry!” came a disbelieving groan.  

 

“Seriously! All I did was ask for directions from a nice lady who gave me a business card for a club. How was I supposed to know she was a were-leopard being forced into prostitution by her alpha? And when I left the club, I didn’t know I’d end up rescuing another were-leopard in the same situation and then have to fight the alpha leopard in the middle of a hospital, and anyway-“

 

Harry edited slightly, aware of people walking through the busy corridor and not wanting to upset Hermione too much.

 

“Stop, Stop! I can’t hear anymore, otherwise I’m going to have to come and find you and you know that Floo travel this late into a pregnancy isn’t good for the baby!” Hermione groaned.

 

“How _is_ my god-child-to-be and my darling god-daughter, anyway?” Harry leapt on the diversion, always happy to avoid a scolding by Hermione.

 

“Rose is fine. She’s going through some bursts of accidental magic at the moment; Ron had to go to work with green hair last week. He was _not_ impressed. I tried everything to remove it, but we just had to let it fade by itself. As for Hugo…I’m definitely ready for him to be born. I’m fed up of waddling around everywhere, and I’m sure he’s going to be a beater with the way he’s hitting my bladder all the time!”

 

Despite her grumbles, Harry could hear the smile in her voice and found himself wearing a massive grin. “He’ll come when he’s ready, Hermione. Clearly he takes after his father, there won’t be any rushing him. How is everyone else?”

 

“Everyone is fine, Harry. Ron and I are being kept busy with work; Teddy is growing up and getting a bit more control of his metamorph abilities, much to Andromeda’s relief; the Weasely’s are well and enjoying looking after Rose while I’m at work; and Luna is still off hunting for her snorklaks with Neville who is enjoying the break from his teaching apprenticeship. Ginny is touring with the Harpies at the moment and George and Angelina say that business is great. We all miss you, you know. You’ll have to visit the moment that Hugo is born.” Hermione demanded, slightly tearful. 

 

“I will.” He promised.

 

“Now, stop trying to change the subject.” Hermione continued briskly, “I’m assuming you want to know more about shifters and shifter politics? I don’t know much off the top of my head,” Harry snorted in disbelief, “which is a shame because it is a fascinating subject, but I might be able to send you a few books to help. Also, I know someone in the international department who should be able to find out more specific information based on your location. I’ll owl you the information so it should be with you in a few days. Exactly how much trouble are you getting yourself into?” She said suspiciously. Harry could almost feel the glare that she must be directing at the phone.

 

“Really, not much Hermione. I’m just looking after the bloke I rescued, while he’s in the hospital. I’m not staying long enough to get involved in anything, I just want to get the lay of the land and try to avoid stepping into any more trouble while I’m here, which hopefully won’t be for very long.” The wizard assured her.

 

Hermione hmphed down the phone. The payphone gave a warning bleep, telling him it was time to end the call. “I need to go, but thanks ‘Mione. Look after yourself and give Rose a big kiss from me.”

 

“Look after yourself and stay out of anymore trouble!” Hermione ordered sternly and then the dial tone cut in.

 

He quickly phones the motel and arranged to book the room for another two days, before the wizard placed the phone back on the hook and stretched his tired, aching body, wincing when it pulled at his ribs. He decided to take a walk around to try and ease some of the stiffness after being sat down for the past few hours, and if he managed to set a few wards to act as a warning while he did so, well, then he would have just a bit more warning to prepare himself.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

A combination of no sleep, the multiple confrontations that he had been involved in, and injuries, left the wizard exhausted. Having cast several more wards around the ward where Nathaniel was resting and stopped for some rather dismal and tasteless food from the Hospital cafeteria, Harry had returned to the leopard’s room and the uncomfortable chair to rest.

 

Kevin was still in the room, sat in a new, comfy looking chair, long legs stretched out in front of him while he flicked through one of the magazines that Harry had discarded an hour prior. “That was a long phone call.” He commented lightly, still looking at the magazine. 

 

“I decided to take a walk too. Any news?”

 

“The leopard is still asleep, but the nurses said he should wake up soon. No visitors or calls.” The relief was evident in the wolf’s gruff voice.

 

“Good. Stephen said that he’d try to be back after lunch. Until then, I think I’m going to try and rest. Wake me up if anything happens.” The wizard informed him, eyeing the padded chair enviously. Pulling out his wand, he transfigured the old plastic chair into something comfier and sunk down gratefully, closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before the exhaustion pulled him into slumber.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Harry woke to someone shaking his shoulder. Jerking up and away from the person and ready to fight if necessary, Harry wrenched open his eyes and saw that the room was filled with nurses and the muffled sounds of panic. Turning back to the person who woke him, the wizard saw Kevin looking at him warily.

“Your leopard woke up while the doctor was examining him. He’s in a bit of a panic. I don't think it helped that he saw me." Kevin said grimacing.

 

Harry pushed past him “Call Stephen.”

 

The wizard made his way over to the bed, sliding past the nurses, one of whom was calling for assistance. Harry was unsure if he could calm down the panicking leopard, but it was worth a try.

 

Now past the nurses, he could see that the leopard was indeed awake and was trying to remove the mask and get off the bed, nearly succeeding despite the nurses and doctors struggling to keep him in the bed. Harry ignored the pandemonium around him and made his way to the head of the bed.

 

Wand out, he silently cast the body-binding curse, causing the leopards arms to snap rigidly to his sides while his legs and back straightened, unable to move. The nurses stepped back in alarm. Harry ignored them and swiftly moved to Nathaniel’s head. The man’s eyes were moving wildly, full of panic and pain. Harry could see that the shifter had torn his stitches. “See to his stitches while I try and calm him down.” He ordered, pausing only long enough to see them cut off the bandages before turning back to Nathaniel.

 

He placed his hands on the man’s face and looked into his terrified lilac eyes.  “Look at me, Nathaniel. You’re safe. You’re in a hospital, the people around you are medicals professionals. You were seriously injured last night, but I found you and brought you to here. You’re safe.” He repeated himself, “Take a breath and notice the antiseptic smell. You need to calm down or you’re going to hurt yourself and one of these lovely people trying to help you.”

 

Nathaniel’s eyes looked at him pleadingly, but slightly less wild. “You’re safe, but under a spell. If I remove it, you must stay still on the bed, otherwise the nurses may call for security, and we don’t want that do we?” Harry looked at the leopard and waited for a moment until he saw that the leopard started to calm down. He looked back at the nurses to see if they had finished looking at Nathaniel’s stomach wound. A nurse caught his eye “He’s healed enough that we won’t need to re-do the stitches, but he’s going to need to remain calm otherwise he could cause serious internal damage.” She said as she finished with the bandage.

 

Harry looked back at Nathanial and removed the curse. Immediately, the shifters body loosened into a more natural position, arms and legs relaxing onto the bed like a marionette with cut strings and his head sank back onto the pillow.

 

“I’m Harry. Your friend Stephen has been here but had to go to work. He should be here again soon.” He informed Nathanial. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Weak, hurt, thirsty…” The injured man said tiredly.

 

“That’s all to be expected.” An older man with a grey beard interjected. He pulled a chart from the end of the bed and flicked through it. “My name is Doctor Maynard and I’m your attending physician. Mr. Graison, you were brought in by ambulance at around 1am this morning. You were taken straight into surgery to repair major internal damage. It was a tricky surgery, but that fact that you are a shifter is the only reason you’re still alive. A normal human would not have survived such injuries.” The doctor was very frank. “The police will need to speak to you when you are feeling up to it, but in the meantime, you need to rest and recuperate. You’ve been through a very serious incident and your healing is working overtime. Is there anything you need?”

 

“Food? Healing uses a lot of energy. And a drink.”

 

The doctor nodded. “I’ll have something sent up and a nurse will be along shortly with some ice chips. Do you have any questions?”

 

“When can I be released?”

 

“Tomorrow at the earliest, I’m afraid. I want to make sure that you haven’t picked up any infections and that you’re internal injuries are well on their way to being fully healed before I send you home.”

 

“I can’t, I’ve got to go to work.” Nathaniel protested softly.

 

The doctor frowned. “Mr. Graison, I don’t think you realise how seriously you were hurt. I’m not clearing you for any type of work for at least a week, lycanthropy or not!”

 

 Seeing panic and fear cross Nathaniel’s face, Harry swiftly intervened. “Nathaniel, I know that you’re worried about ‘work’, but your boss has been fired. Until a replacement is found, you don’t have to go into work. In fact, you can have as much time of as you need, so don’t worry. Stephen will explain everything when he comes in.”

 

Harry’s input did little to quell the fear on Nathaniel’s face, but the shifter stopped protesting, head falling tiredly back onto the pillow.

 

“I’d recommend that you get some sleep. I know that you’re feeling tired, but when you wake up, there will be food waiting.” Dr. Maynard said calmly.

 

It didn’t take long for Nathaniel to drift off to sleep, the stress of the situation had sapped any energy he might have managed to regain.

 

“How is he doing really, doctor?” Harry asked.

 

“I’m sorry Mr. Potter, but as you aren’t his medical proxy, I can’t released that information. When his brother comes back, I’ll talk to him and then it is up to him to share any details. I would like to thank you for your help, though. It can be tough when people with lycanthropy first wake up in hospital. Thanks to their accelerated healing, it usually takes a major incident for them to come into hospital and most shifters wake up swinging. We weren’t quite prepared for Mr. Graison, I’m afraid.” The doctor looked serious.

 

“It was no problem. I didn’t want to see him get hurt again.” Harry waved off any thanks.

 

“I need to get on with my rounds, but please let the nurses know the next time that Mr. Graison wakes up or when his medical proxy returns, and then I can talk to him about his friends’s condition.”

 

Harry nodded, and the doctor walked out into the hall.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 Stephen returned to the hospital just after 2pm, looking exhausted. He was startled to see Kevin in the room, but Harry quickly explained that they had been sent by Anita to help.

 

“I’ve explained what happened to my boss and he said that I could have a few days off to look after Nathaniel. He’s also going to pay for Nathaniel’s medical fees as part of his contract with the club.” Stephen said tiredly. “I’ve been in contact with the pard, and they’re desperate to come and see him, but they’re worried about Zane.”

 

“He’ll be in jail, surely?” Harry questioned. 

 

“Probably not.” Kevin cut in “When I spoke to Anita last night, she thinks that he’d get out on bail. She thinks he won’t be going to jail ‘cause he didn’t seriously hurt except for a few concussions and broken bones, which, if you think about it, is restrained for one of us.”

 

Stephen nodded in agreement, sitting next to the hospital bed and hold Nathaniel’s hand.

 

Harry realised that this was true. It certainly wasn’t like his memories of Greyback at the battle of Hogwarts, where he had killed simply for the sake of it. He reflected on the events of the night before and recognized that Zane had had dozens of opportunities to kill people last night, but the worst off was the surgeon with a broken leg and Harry. Thoughts swirled around his head, but he was coming up blank.

 

Pushing the topic to one side, he asked “Why don’t they come on down? If Teddy, Lorraine or Kevin are here, then they’ll know to let them in, and we can help protect them from Zane, if he gets out on bail.”

 

“I’ll give them a call in a minute,” Stephen agreed “I think Nathaniel would really appreciate having his pard with him. What did the doctors say?”

 

“They wouldn’t tell me anything as I’m not his medical proxy. He woke up earlier, and panicked, but I managed to calm him down. The doctor said that he was healing well, but that was it. I think you’ll need to go and speak to one of the nurses to find out more.”   

 

“I’ll go and check. The pard want to know when he can go home.” Stephen stroked Nathaniel’s hair fondly, then left to speak to the nurses.

 

Tired, a huge yawn escaped Harry and he slumped back into his chair. “I need some rest, otherwise I’m not going to be much use.” He admitted reluctantly.

 

“We’ve got this. Get some shut eye.” Kevin told him confidently.

 

“When I wake up, we need to decide what’s going to happen when Nathaniel’s released.”

“What do you mean?”

 

“They’re out there alone and unprotected. If Zane does get locked away, they don’t have a pack structure. I don’t know much about shifter, but I do know that a pack, pard or whatever you want to call it is necessary. What will happen to them without it, especially with Sylvie about?” He questioned.

 

Kevin looked uncomfortable “In all seriousness? They’ll probably end up like Nathaniel. They need a leader to stand up for them and if not, they’ll be abused by other shifters. There’s so few of them compared to the lukoi. Even less if Sylvie has her way.”

 

“Great.” Harry groaned. Hermione was going to kill him. “I’m going to get some sleep. If you have any ideas, let me know.”  

 

_________________________

 

Harry woke up a few hours later feeling refreshed and lighter now that tiredness wasn’t weighing heavily on his shoulders. Unlike previous times, he work to a room quiet apart from the quiet sound of Stephen’s snoring and the click of a keyboard. He looked around to see Lorraine tapping away at her phone. He sat up carefully, mindful of his bruised torso and saw that the sky had turned dark. “How long was I asleep?” He asked Lorraine.

 

“It’s about 11 o’clock. You were asleep for a good 9 hours. You missed Nathaniel waking up, having some food and being checked over by the doctor, and two of Nathaniel’s pard, Vivian and Cherry, visiting.”

 

“I really needed that sleep, I guess.” Harry said. “Any news from Anita about Sylvie or Zane?”

 

“I haven’t heard about Zane, but I’ve spoken to a few friends who said that Sylvie’s keeping quiet at the moment.” Lorraine said softly, putting her phone into the soft, burgundy leather bag which was tucked beneath her chair.

 

“What have the doctors said about Nathaniel?”

 

“They are happy with the progress of his healing. All minor wounds have healed and his stomach, it’s just the ones caused by silver that are not completely healed; his wrists are still heavily blistered. The doctors are happy enough that they said he can be released in the morning, on the condition that he remains on bedrest and has someone to look after him.

 

Harry nodded “I think that when he’s home, his pard will be able to take over looking after him. I was supposed to leave St Louis today, and once this situation is sorted, then I can move on.”

 

“It was kind of you to help him.”

 

Harry shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. If you had heard him scream…I couldn’t stand back and do nothing. It was the same when Zane came. If he had taken Nathaniel out of the hospital, he wouldn’t have lasted very long. I only did what anyone would do.”

 

Lorraine stared. “Not many people are willing to defy an alpha. Especially when they know nothing of the situation.”

 

 “Like I said, it was the right thing. My friend, Hermione, once said that I have a ‘saving people’ thing, and I’ve got to admit she’s right. If there’s something that I can do to help, I will.”  He sighed. “Sometimes though, there is nothing I can do. Luckily, this was a situation where I could help.”

 

Which was when one of the wards was triggered. Harry leapt to his feet. “Lorraine, get ready, someone’s coming.”

 

Standing up swiftly despite the confusion on her face, Lorraine shifted her fingers into claws, making her aura flair with power. “How do you know?”

 

“One of my wards was just triggered. It means someone with malicious intentions is coming. Stephen, wake up!”

 

Stephen jolted up right. “What’s going on?” He twitched. “Zane! I can smell him coming this way.”

 

“Lorraine, stand behind me and protect Stephen and Nathaniel.” Harry ordered urgently, moving to stand between the door and the bed where Nathaniel lay. They waited in anticipation, hearing steps outside the door, then it burst open and in the doorway stood Zane, looking livid.  

 

“Get out of the way. He’s mine!” Zane stalked forwards.

 

“Sectumsempra!” Harry was ruthless. He wasn’t going to let more people get hurt.

 

Zane darted out the way and tried to leap forward, only to be tackled by Lorraine. In any other situation it would have been hilarious, a 5ft tall woman tackling a 6ft giant to the floor, but Zane grabbed her by the shoulder and hurled her across the room, where she landed with a groan.

 

Harry sent a knee reversal hex towards the now partially shifter leopard who leaped out of the way.  “Give him to me and I won’t hurt you.” He snarled around gleaming fangs.

 

The words shriveled the cures on Harry’s lips. _‘Won’t hurt you?’_ It reminded him of what Teddy said earlier. _‘It was restrained for one of us.’_

 

“Zane, I’ve stopped you before and I’ll do it again.” He warned, something holding him back from just obliterating the shifter.

 

“Why? Why do you care about him? He’s part of my pard. What does some human care about a hooker who can shift?”

 

“I said that I would protect him, and I keep to my word. I don’t care if he’s a shifter, a vampire or a bloody hag. It’s the right thing to do.” Harry said firmly. “Now back off. I don’t think you want to hurt anyone else Zane, but I need you to leave.”

 

Zane moved forward. Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but without hesitating, he snapped “Flipendo!”

 

The leopard didn’t even dodge, just kept walking towards Harry. The jinx hit Zane head on and sent him hurtling through the air into the wall, crashing with a loud smack and a shower of plaster. Blood trickled down the leopards face from a rapidly healing cut on his head and what must have been a broken arm healed before Harry’s eyes.

 

“Give up Zane,” Harry said calmly, “You’re not getting him. If you try again, I’ll have to use something worse. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.” Zane whispered. He started to cry. Harry took a step back, startled. What?

“I’m so glad that you’re here,” He said. “I’ve tried to take care of them, but I couldn’t. I tried to be Gabriel, but I couldn’t be him.”

 

He lurched forward and Harry raised his wand, but the leopard curled up on the floor before Harry, sobbing. “I’m so glad that you’ve come to us. I’m so glad that there is someone who is going to take care of us.”

 

Harry looked down at the leopard on the floor, completely baffled. Looking after them? What?


End file.
